


The Intervention

by Sir_Nemo



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Intervention, Mushrooms, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Nemo/pseuds/Sir_Nemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or how Radagast stopped using mushrooms for half a day and Thranduil was scarred for life.</p><p>Saruman thinks Radagast's mushroom use has come too far. It is time for an intervention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hobbit kink meme. Prompt: "And what's up with Saruman and his hate of mushrooms, anyway?" (http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=3921218#t3921218)

It started simple enough. With posters. Radagast the Brown was making his daily tour around the forest. As he had promised to have tea with the badgers, he was in quite a hurry and would have missed it had not the bird living in the tree it was pinned against alerted him of its presence. 

Radagast took the poster down and inspected it carefully. YOU, the poster said, SHOULD GIVE UP MUSHROOMS. In the middle was a faintly familiar picture of a man pointing his finger at Radagast.

Radagast pocketed the poster. He would have to look into the matter later, but now he would have to hurry. He couldn't cancel his tea with the badgers, again. That would just be rude.

\- - -

There were more posters, once he finally grawled out of the badgers' home. It seemed every other tree on his way back to his hut was plastered with a poster. The posters had phrases like: ”MUSHROOMS ARE BAD FOR YOU”, ”DOING MUSHROOMS MAKE CHILDREN CRY” and ”SO YOU WANT TO BE A HALF-WIT? - CONTINUE USING MUSHROOMS.” After a while Radagast ignored the messages, and just collected them. It seemed odd that someone would go to lengths to put posters into his woods, it was not like many people would read them. Radagast did, but the message was clearly not for him, he had always been rather responsible with mushrooms.

When he arrived to his hut and all the posters were collected, Radagast let out a sharp whistle. Soon all the trees near his house were filled with curious birds.

“I've got some material for your nests,” Radagast said, and dropped the posters to the ground. The birds chirped happily and started picking the posters up one by one. Radagast watched them with satisfaction. The message might not have reached the right person, but at least the posters could do some good and the nests would be warm this fall.

He forgot about the posters almost immediately afterwards. But that might have been the mushroom stew he made.

\- - -

Next came the pamphlets. Radagast woke up one morning, a week after the posters, to a strange _flap, flap_ sound. He stumbled towards the sound, and found that there were pamphlets falling down his chimney and into his rooms.

Radagast picked one. ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT MUSHROOM ABUSE, it was titled. The next one was YELLOW TEETH AND YOU – THE SIGNS THAT YOU NEED TO GIVE UP SMOKING SHROOMS and the one after that SO YOU USE MUSHROOMS? - HOW TO STOP RUINING YOUR LIFE – A GUIDE.

The pamphlets were a bit bothersome, mostly because they just kept coming and they were starting to make walking around the house a bit difficult. So Radagast pushed some of them out of the doors for the animals to take, if they needed more nest-building material. When the pamphlets finally stopped coming Radagast simply pushed them back to the fireplace and lit them up.

He had roasted mushrooms for lunch that day.

\- - -

There were no more posters or pamphlets after that, and Radagast thought that this had been the end of the matter.

But a week after the pamphlets Radagast was coming back from settling an argument between the squirrels and woodpeckers, who had been fighting over a certain tree for a while now. When he opened the door there were two tall figures standing inside his house.

“This is an intervention,” said Saruman the White. Next to him Gandalf the Grey rolled his eyes.

“Oh. Well, that's nice,” Radagast said.

“We as your colleagues have decided that this must come to a stop.”

“Isn't there five of us?” Radagast asked, trying to look over Saruman's shoulder to see if the rest of them were there.

“The blue ones couldn't come,” Gandalf said. Radagast just nodded and lifted his hat, so the squirrel that had hitched a ride with him could come out. The squirrel gave Saruman a nasty, well as nasty as a squirrel could, look before scurrying away.

“This is not about the blue ones. This is about you and your mushroom use,” Saruman said.

“If you want I can give you some of my recipes,” Radagast suggested.

“I need no recipes! But you need to stop eating them immediately! These mushrooms are rotting your brain even as we speak! They are slowing your thought and turning you into a nothing more than a bumbling imbecile! They are...” Radagast raised his eyebrows at Gandalf, who merely shrugged. Out of sheer politeness Radagast looked like he was listening as he wandered about the house trying to make it look a little cleaner and also trying to find his teapot. Gandalf was standing next to the raving Saruman, staring into the distance. Absent-mindedly Gandalf pulled a pipe out of his pocket and put it in his mouth. Saruman was still going on about mushrooms, his hands waving about: “...And your teeth! Do you have any idea what mushrooms do to your teeth?! Soon... PUT THAT AWAY!”

Saruman snatched the pipe away from Gandalf, and with one swift movement snapped it in half. The sound made Radagast flinch.

“I apologize,” Gandalf muttered.

“Well you should. I had such great hopes for you, Gandalf. You were doing so well in your program. It seems that my insight isn't appreciated here, so I shall be leaving you, Radagast, with this.”

Saruman handed Radgast, who was feeling rather confused by all of this, a booklet.

“How to get rid of mushroom addiction in nine steps,” Radagast read.

“I made it myself,” Saruman said. “Now the first step would be that you give to me all the wretched mushrooms in your possession.”

“I, uh.” Radagast looked at Gandalf who was nodding rabidly behind Saruman's back and mouthing 'go along with it'. “Well, of course.”

So for the next hour or so Radagast opened cupboards and emptied pots of mushrooms into a brown sack that Saruman had produced from the folds of his robe.

“Thank you for your co-operation. It is best for you too,” Saruman said, hauling the sack to his shoulder. “Are you coming Gandalf?”

“I think I'll stay for a couple of days. Me and Radagast have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Do what you will. Take care.”

And with that Saruman started walking away, his step a bit wobbly because of the weight of the sackful of mushrooms on his shoulder. Without a word Gandalf handed Radagast a pamphlet.

“That's what he gave to me.”

“A nine step guide to giving up on halfling tobacco,” Radagast read.

“Mmhm,” Gandalf answered. Saruman had finally disappeared from sight, so Gandalf knelt down and pulled a pipe from his boot, placing it on his lips, before speaking: “I'm sorry about your loss.”

“Oh the whole forest is full of that stuff. What do you think he's going to do with them?”

“Burn them, I suppose.”

“Oh dear, I hope not.”

“Hmm?”

“There's some jackshrooms in there. Even I wouldn't burn those.”

“Oh dear,” Gandalf agreed with a chuckle. They stood together in silence for a while. Then as if remembering something Radagast produced two frogs from his sleeve. The frogs were a peculiar combination of bright yellow and muddy brown.

“Do you want to lick a frog?” Radagast asked.

“What?”

“It's good stuff. Much stronger than the mushrooms,” Radagast said. “And the frogs don't mind.”

“Croak,” said the frog.

Gandalf stared at the frogs for a long while. The frogs stared back.

“Fine. Hand me the bigger one.”


	2. Epilogue

The day was rather beautiful and calm, so the Elvenking of Mirkwood, Thranduil, had decided to take his son and a couple of guards for a walk in the forest. Legolas, young as he was, was very curious about everything and Thranduil answered to all of the questions with great pride and pleasure.

They had wandered off a bit farther than usual, but Legolas was so enthusiastic about all they came across that his father had no heart to tell him no.

They were just approaching a small lake when a terrifying scream froze them to their places. Thranduil pulled young Legolas close, protecting him with his arms, and covering his eyes with his hand.

“Dad, no, I want to see dad, what is it?” Legolas protested.

“It's coming closer. Stay alert,” Thranduil ordered. The elven guards pulled out their weapons. The scream sounded again, much closer, and it sounded different, cheerier.

Thranduil frowned, holding his struggling son closer, and was just about to lay another order when something ran screaming and naked past them, and the words dried to his lips.

“What's going on?” Legolas asked, but was ignored by the other elves who were staring at the direction the person had disappeared with their mouths hanging open. Finally one of the guards found his voice.

“Wasn't that... Wasn't that Saruman the White, naked, running through our woods, screaming 'whiiiii'?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Thranduil answered, still gripping his son.

“Should we... go after him?” another asked. Thranduil shuddered.

“What we should do,” he said, each word pronounced carefully. “Is get smashed.”

“I don't think we have wine strong enough.”

“We can always try. Send someone to Radagast, we might need some of his frogs.”


End file.
